


Kintsugi

by sarashelly



Category: Miss Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarashelly/pseuds/sarashelly
Summary: Sherlock has something to say about Wato's scars.





	Kintsugi

**Author's Note:**

> You can also read a Chinese translation by Teufelsbraten [here](http://teufelsbraten.lofter.com/post/1f854adf_ee9be87f).

Wato sat awkwardly on the edge of her bed, her head tilted and her hair swept over her left shoulder, attempting to apply the cucumber toner all the way to the lower parts of the scars on her back. The effort was not going well. No matter how she tried to turn her arm, she found it difficult to reach the right spot. Just as she was twisted in a position that looked like some kind of advanced yoga, the door was pulled open.

“We got a call from—”

Sherlock fell silent as Wato fell to the floor with a yelp.

“ _What_  are you doing?”

Wato climbed back to her feet, her face burning red. She scanned the room for a shirt to pull over her sleeveless top, but unfortunately all her clothes were neatly folded inside the wardrobe. It was too late, anyway. She was sure there was nothing she could cover that Sherlock’s keen eyes hadn’t noticed already. She sat back down on her bed, wiping strands of hair off of her face.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” she said, trying to regain some composure.

“What for?” Sherlock asked. Wato glanced at her companion’s blank face. Apparently privacy was yet another concept that was beneath Sherlock to consider. She gave up trying to pursue the issue.

“You were saying something about a call?”

Wato stood up and pulled her hair over her scars as nonchalantly as she managed. It was a bad idea, as her hair glued itself to the skin that was still wet from the toner, but she could not bear having her scars out in the open. She walked over to the wardrobe and started to pick clothes to wear.

Sherlock stepped behind Wato and swept her hair away from the scars. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. Wato tried to turn around, but Sherlock held on to her hair, took a hair clip from a basket on top of the wardrobe, and twisted the hair up to a loose bun. Then she picked up the cucumber toner bottle that had fallen to the floor along with Wato, and started applying it over the scars before Wato even had time to react.

“You don’t have to—”

“We don’t have time,” Sherlock said. “You need to be ready in ten minutes. A medical student received a strange offer from a wealthy lady.”

“I see.”

Wato sensed Sherlock wanted her to ask details about the case, but she was not in the mood to humor her. A moment passed in silence.

“Since when have you known?” Wato asked. “About my scars?”

“As I recall it, the first time I suspected it was when Mrs. Maibara came to ask us about the vandalism done to  _Sachiko_.”

“That was my first morning here!” Wato almost spun around in surprise, but Sherlock prodded her on the shoulder telling her to keep still.

Wato was certain she would regret asking, but she had to ask, anyway.

“ _How?_ ”

“You’re always fixing the collar of your blouse, you winced when Mrs. Hatano touched your shoulder, you recently returned from a war zone. Do I have to go on?”

Wato couldn’t see Sherlock’s face but she was sure she was doing one of those impatient eye rolls she did when people were too slow to see what was obvious to her. Wato could not help but feel irritated. Sherlock always managed to make her feel so exposed.

“If you’ve known for so long you could have made me some tonic sooner,” she said, pouting.

“If you needed it, you should have asked. I didn’t think it was something necessary.”

Wato blinked.

“What?”

“It makes sense, of course,” Sherlock said. “That’s what people do all the time. Clothes, shoes, hair, skin care, it’s all for the sake of fixing imperfections. I just did not think your scars needed fixing.”

Wato tried to process the meaning of Sherlock’s words.

“Aren’t they… hideous?” she asked. The words almost got caught up in her throat.

“No.” Sherlock’s voice was soft, but at the same time resolutely certain.

“It’s like  _kintsugi_ ,” she continued. “Repairing broken ceramics with gold lacquer. Each piece is all the more beautiful for its unique cracks. A cup does not become useless just because it was broken, and the marks that show where it was repaired just tell its story. The things it has seen, the things it survived… What’s hideous about that?”

Slowly the meaning of the words sunk into Wato’s mind. She barely dared to breathe. Sherlock let her hair down, brushing it gently to the side away from her scars.

“Anyway,” Sherlock said, placing the toner bottle down on the bedside table. Her voice sounded oddly strained. “We have to go. Be ready in…” She paused. “Just come down when you’re ready.”

Wato stared at the door that had closed behind Sherlock. Had this  _impossible woman_  just compared her scars to art? She snatched a pillow from her bed and threw it at the door.

“I’d rather you just stick to being snarky!”

She did not actually mean those words, not even a little bit. But Sherlock had left her feeling five thousand different things all at once, and she really just wanted… a hug. She might as well have been hoping for the moon from the sky.

She turned back to the wardrobe, and picked something comfortable to wear. As she was closing the wardrobe door, her eyes fell on a box of clothes she had been intending to get rid of. Tentatively she picked up the blue summer dress at the top of the box. It had always been her favorite, but with a back cut so low she had thought she would certainly never wear it again. She folded the dress neatly back into the wardrobe.  _Maybe… maybe some day_.

Wato had expected Sherlock to be waiting for her down by the stairs, but as she stepped out of her room she instead found her standing just outside it, leaning her back on the wall. For a moment Wato thought she could see an uncharacteristically soft look in Sherlock’s eyes, but Sherlock quickly turned away and started to walk towards the stairs. After a few steps she stopped and glanced back at Wato who was still standing by her door.

“Well? Did you forget something?” Sherlock asked. The snarky detective had returned. Wato sighed, but could not help smiling a little.

“You said something about a medical student?” she said. A slow, satisfied smile appeared on Sherlock’s lips.

“A very gifted one. But short of money as it happens. Now, listen to this…”

They walked out to the street with Sherlock recounting the odd details about the case. Wato listened just enough to be able to give Sherlock the questions she knew were expected, but her own thoughts were elsewhere.

 _What kind of scars was Sherlock hiding_ , Wato wondered.  _And would she ever get a chance to tell her in return, that what ever it was, it did not need to be kept hidden?_

**Author's Note:**

> [wikipedia article on kintsugi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi)


End file.
